


War Of The Roses

by casstayinmyass



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/M, Fight Sex, Fights, Jealousy, Quickies, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:27:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29099529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: You and Papa III get into a heated fight over the attention he’s shown to another Sister. The fight ends in the best of ways.
Relationships: Papa Emeritus III/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	War Of The Roses

You’re on your way to the chapel to tend to the altar as part of your daily routine when you hear it.

Coming to a halt on your toes, you shuffle back slowly. You think you hear your Papa’s voice; though, you could be mistaken. All three Emeritus brothers sound alike.

_“Of course, bella mia. What is it that you need?”_

That’s definitely Terzo, speaking the language he knows best: love. Watching safely from across the hall, you see a Sister you’ve come to know as Sister Shay take Papa’s arm, leading him down a dimly lit corridor. You frown, sneaking just a few steps forward to try and listen in to what they could be saying.

 _“Papa, I need your help with something.”_ You bite your lip as you hear the sound of shifting clothing.

_“Anything, hm? Papa is always here for his flock.”_

_“You’re so kind.”_

You stifle a scoff, heart pounding a little faster as blood begins to rush to your face. You hear something else, like a belt jangling, and a deep groan. You're speechless. Do you turn the corner and confront them, or wait and talk to Papa about it later?

“Sister,” you hear, and startle a little as you turn to see Papa I waiting behind you.

“Papa,” you breathe, clutching your heart. He gives you a soft, knowing smile, and offers you a pat on the shoulder.

“You were on your way to the chapel si, good Sister? I think some of our candles are in need of replacement.” You sigh, and bow your head. He merely chuckles, striding past you.

\----

Terzo returns to the bedroom after his day, to find you waiting on the end of the bed. You’d been there an hour in his room, after you had finished your duties for the day. As the decision to confront him and the Sister or not had been made for you, this was the next best thing you could do. 

“Sorella,” Papa smiles, and groans as he shuffles off his suit jacket. “Ah, what a nice thing it is to see you waiting for me here. Thinking of you is what kept me from losing the mind today while I was in the meetings. My leg, it was doing the bouncing the whole time. Feh. Very boring— it could have been an email.” He finally shucks off the outer layer of clothing, before unbuttoning the top two shirt buttons easily and walking over. “As I was saying. I thought of you all day.”

“Really?” you mutter, standing up from the end of the bed. He looks confused for a moment as he folds his jacket carefully over the back of one of his velvet chairs.

“Eh... si. I thought of what a nice night it would be, throwing on a spooky movie together. My hands, gently feeling down your back. A squeeze here. A stroke there. _Mmm_. Papa knows just where to touch, hm?”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do all that with Sister Shay?” Papa’s left in dumbfounded silence for a moment.

“Sister Sh—what do you mean by this?” He frowns, coming over to brush his thumb against your shoulder. Further concerning him, you jerk away from his touch and step back.

“I was walking by when I saw her pull you down the corridor.” Papa stares at you, blinking.

“Si. She did. She wanted to talk the private matters with me.”

“I’m sure she got real private,” you snap, glancing down between his legs. Papa’s brows furrow even more, jaw clenching.

“Ah. I have not done what you are thinking that I have,” he assures, taking your arm. When you rip it away from him again, he growls. “What would I have done with her in there, eh?! Did you stick around to listen? Or did you just run away thinking so easily I would be unfaithful?”

“Excuse me?! I didn’t run away, I actually had duties to attend to. Unlike you, who spends all day getting jerked off by whoever happens to _look_ at you walking by.”

“Do not take that tone with your Papa.”

“I’ll talk to you however I want, you’ve been inside me.”

“You want to believe I would do this. I know this. You want to so you can feel sorry for yourself. To say “poor you”.”

“What the fuck?! Why would I want that—?”

“Because you are not listening to me, you are talking as if you were there!”

“I was, I saw it!”

“You saw nothing! You saw shit!”

“Right.”

“I do not fuck everybody I see!”

“That’s fucking rich, especially with the way she was looking at you.”

“She confessed she was homesick and scared. That is all she said to me." 

"I heard you moaning."

"She..." Papa sighs. "She touched me. She confessed I was the only one who made her feel at home, and she... she wanted me." Papa shakes his head, anger returning. "But I said no! I said I am spoken for, I am not such a dog as that. She needed an ear, she trusts me. I have given her reason to, but I denied her advances.”

“You wanted her too."

"I am a man, I have a cock, she touched my cock! Do you expect me not to have a reaction, eh?!"

"What the fuck, Terzo?"

"I did _nothing_ with her."

"Likely story. You’re creative, I’ll give you that.”

“Why won’t you fucking believe me?!” Papa shouts.

“Because you smell like perfume, you horny prick!”

“It is MY PERFUME! I didn’t feel like wearing cologne today, MERDA CAZZO!”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Papa audibly gasps, jaw clenching even harder. “How dare you talk to your Papa this way?” He takes your arm, unwilling to let you shake him off this time. “How dare you address me so flippantly? I should—look at me, eh!?” He grabs you by the chin and jerks your face to look up at his. “—You fucking look at me. I should have you thrown out the front doors with your things after what you just said to me. And that would be lenient.”

“Then with me out of the picture, you can go back to Shay,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. Terzo pins you to the wall, banging both palms against it on either side of you as he leans in close to snarl in your ear:

“You want to make me out to be the villain so bad? I can be the villain.” Your breath catches at that, but your anger resurfaces from your body’s reaction.

“See? This is what you do! All you do is sweet talk until people believe you,” you argue, heating up a little from his breath on your neck.

“All you do is argue with me, all the time.”

“You aren’t listening!”

“It is you who is not hearing what I say!”

“You’re so fucking vain!”

“You’re so _god damn_ frail.”

“What did you call me?!”

“I,” Papa began, heaving. His hair has fallen into his eyes, and his eyes are dark. Shaking his head, he lets out a low “ai,” before surging forward and slamming his lips into yours. You angrily return the motion, all bite between hot, wet kisses. You try to undo his belt buckle, but he pushes you back against the wall with a thump, undoing it himself. He lifts your leg to hold you under the knee, and strokes a finger down to feel you. No panties.

Denying you the foreplay of his fingers, he instead takes his cock out, jerking it a few times until it’s fully hard, and wastes no time pushing into you. Teeth gritted, you swear as he pounds you against the wall. Each grunt of Papa’s is more laboured, angrier, more intense. His face screws up, lines between his brows and across his forehead more pronounced in his heated frustration. Finally, the two of your fevered moans and noises come to a crescendo, and Papa hits his fist against the wall hard as he hits a strong orgasm and empties himself inside you. You follow seconds later, screaming out all the anger you had pent up from the day as Papa slowly lets your leg down.

“I’m sorry if you thought I was seducing the girl,” Papa pants, breathless. He places a hand over his heart. “I swear to Satanas I was not.”

“If you say you weren’t...” you breathe, “I believe you. I’m sorry too.” You reach up to touch Papa’s skin, sweat beading along his chin and neck. He leans down to give you a proper, sweet kiss, before guiding you away from the wall toward the bathroom.

“Shower time, si? Let us wash the sins of the day away... to leave a clean slate for the new ones tonight.”


End file.
